Mamihlapinatapai
by MidnightOfTheSoul
Summary: *complete* A look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that they both desire but which neither one wants to start. For Pineapple.
1. Chapter 1

Title: _Mamihlapinatapai_

Pairing: Cal/Gillian

Disclaimer: LtM not mine

Summary: A look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that they both desire but which neither one wants to start. For Pineapple.

A/N: It's a ficlet, with quickly changing POVs. If you can't handle that then don't bother reading. It's already written. Thanks for reading and extra thanks to those who comment :)

.::.::.

It's been happening more often lately. These _moments_, these _passing thoughts of fancy_, are becoming less fanciful and more determined.

.::.

You're walking through the entrance. You've been out all day in hundred-degree weather and when you get to the office, all you want is a cold beer.

Instead of an ice-cold refreshment, you happen upon a curly haired Foster. In the kitchen. Running an ice cube along her neck with her eyes closed.

You stop and blink for a few seconds, wondering if you're hallucinating.

She seems to sense your presence and opens her eyes. For one eternal second, you see the desire, the come hither arch of her brow, the way her lids close slightly.

His mouth is ajar and he's got a slight tilt to his head, as though he's observing you in your natural state. You catch the way his eyes trace the movement of your hand along your neck, down to your breasts, and then slowly back to your eyes.

He's got a slightly dazed look about him that is endearing to the point of ridiculousness.

When his tongue absently slides over his lips predatorily, you remember that very real and very present danger. You straighten, smile quickly and toss the ice cube in the sink.

"Burnt my neck curling my hair this morning."

"Sure you did."


	2. Chapter 2

DOS

.::.

There's always a _point of no return_. It's a mere nanosecond, where you can no longer explain away your actions with a shrug and a smile.

That _point_ is getting fuzzier and more ominous by the day.

.::.

You've tasted her lips. You've felt her breasts pressed tight against your chest. You've had your laughter, cast knowing looks, and exchanged coy smirks.

But you haven't had_ her_. Not all of her. Not all at one time. You've always been afraid that you'd be too much for her to handle. That if you showed her all that you could be, she'd buckle beneath the weight and let you roll off her back.

Now, you aren't so sure.

You're around the corner, leaning against the wall in your office, catching your breath. You haven't the faintest idea why passing her and exchanging a quick glance is having such an effect on you.

She'd exited the conference room, looked up from a folder and spotted you. There was a flash of indescribable want in her eyes, followed by a slow burning quirk of the lips. All you did was waggle your eyebrows and she winked in response. You used to take the piss out of her because she can only wink with one eye. This time, it was the definitely the good side.

That simple action took your breath away. Your step faltered and you nearly walked in her direction to take her up on that _wink. _Then she caught the change and her game face returned.

Maybe it's _her _that's too much for _you_.


	3. Chapter 3

TROIS

.::.

One of these days, you'll both get called out on the mess you're making of each other's life. Question is, what'll you do when that day comes?

.::.

It didn't mean anything. Really.

He says things like that all the time. Comments about sexy dresses and cleavage, all the typical borderline sexual harassment stuff that wouldn't fly in the real world.

Except… he kind of did. Mean it. He can hide a lot of things from you, but removing the sincerity in his voice? That's almost impossible. Though, you're still not sure if it was smoke and mirrors or if it was genuine, because your inner you is too damn concerned that he'd head for the hills if he knew how much his comment floored your entire being.

Still, he's sitting next to you on the steps up on the roof, watching the sun drift low in the October sky. Your shoulders are touching and you're both sharing a flask, fingers brushing as you pass it back and forth. You ignore how his lips linger on the opening, how his tongue flicks at the drops of alcohol beading on the pewter threads. You make some asinine comment about Loker moving up in the world and he laughs. It's low and warm and vibrates through your arm and into your core.

You glance over at him and find his eyes already upon you, your lips actually. When his eyes drift up to yours, they're clear and almost innocent in their demand.

It's only a flash of a second, and she looks down to your lips, wet from drink. It's possible that one or both of you move closer together, but just before contact, you're both frozen.

She sucks in your air and you count the freckles dotting the bridge of her nose, the lashes on her lids. It's endless, those torturous moments, but then you blink hard and feel the resolve settle back on your features. She recognizes the blankness and sits back with a bitter quirk in the corner of her lips.

Another day. Another day of meaningless nothings.

Really.

.::.


	4. Chapter 4

VIER

.::.

Love. It isn't some grand declaration ardently expressed in the rain or in front of a crowd. It's in the small moments, the back-and-forth, the soft laughter, the not-so-careless brush of the hand.

It's in quiet understanding that there will always be the potential for _more_.

.::.

The future. You've tried to picture it. Numerous ways. Times when you've met a man, a good man. One who has no addictions, no hang-ups, no dangerophilia. One who isn't afraid to love you fully and openly.

"Whatchya thinkin' bout?"

You don't respond right away because you're trying to put a name to Mr. Right and it never quite seems to fit. Maybe because you stay away from all names starting with 'C', 'A', and 'D'. Giving up, you turn to him and don't bother beating around the bush.

"Where do you think we'll be in five years?"

"Hopefully not penniless from this crazy stunt we're pullin'," he shoots you a smirk that you don't return. Quickly catching the gravity of your question, he turns to you with a tilted head. "Why? Where d'you think we'll be?"

Her eyes are so blue and clear and open. She's truly considering the question and it bothers you on multiple levels. She should have an automatic response by now. Thinking about it implies doubt and the potential for… somewhere else. Somewhere not by your side. You look at her squarely and she's leveling you with a look that says _shit or get off the pot._

So you do, you return the look. Your eyes draw together, cheeks tighten, and lids pull at the corners.

"Yeah," she nods as her head tilts to the side, smile blooming. "Me too."

Because right here, with her, is the only place you'll ever want to be.

.::.

A/N: Please forgive the vulgarity, but methinks Cal isn't PG in his head.


	5. Chapter 5

FEM

.::.

The problem with the heart is that often times the possessor doesn't realize their ownership until it's too late. By then, they've wrung out your heart and laid it bare to crack and shrivel up in the sun

Be mindful of this when you show them what power they've wielded over you.

.::..

It's Christmas eve and he's helping you into your wool coat. As you turn, he hooks your scarf around your neck and doesn't release, not even when you're finished buttoning.

"Unless you're coming along, I'm pretty sure this is where you let go," you say cheekily.

His smirk dissolves quickly and is replaced by alarming solemnity. You're confused by the sudden change because this whole evening has been light and friendly… save for the heavy air of anticipation. He looks to the ground and makes a face, then returns to you.

Whispers, "_You've ruined me_."

Your brow furrows at his admission, completely taken aback by his words. Then he let's you _see._ It's too much all at once. You look away as unbidden tears fill your eyes.

Ruined him _for others_. There is no one else for you but each other. Over time, he's ruined you as well. When you look at other men, you only see the absence of Cal. The tip of his index finger nudges the bottom of your chin back to see the vulnerability on his features. He wants you to stay the whole night through — and not in his guest room.

You want her eyes to crinkle at the corners, her nose to flare slightly, the rosiness on her cheeks to deepen. You want her arms wrapped around you in understanding and acquiescence.

Instead, she's worrying her lip and her eyes literally glow from unshed tears washed in candlelight. She leans forward ever so slightly. Her eyes waver in time to your heartbeat as she gazes _into _you, looking for your doubt and fear. She won't find what she's looking for. Not unless she looks in the mirror.

Her breath is soft upon your lips and your mouth opens to catch the traces, knowing that for the moment, this is as close as you'll get.

Next thing you know, she's bid you a silent goodnight and your forehead is thudding against your front door, wishing you had her pressed against it instead.


	6. Chapter 6

SEX

.::.::.

The acknowledgment of mutual love isn't difficult. It's accepting that you've just given someone the most important part of yourself, blindly hoping that they'll recognize this gift for what it is and treat it with care.

.::.::.

Blinking long and slow, she scrunches her face against the sun, clearly unhappy to greet it.

His steady scrutiny would bother you if you were more alert. Instead you wonder how long he's been awake, sitting in that chair by the bed.

_Two steps. That's as far as you get before doing an about-face._

_You open the door before she knocks. You were about to give chase, but having her doe-eyed and frozen to your doormat is even better._

She stretches, long and catlike. It's mesmerizing.

He has this… smile on his face that's so affable, so cheerful. It's puzzling.

_He reaches out and pulls you inside by your scarf. It's quickly discarded. Along with your coat… and other unnecessary items of clothing. Like everything._

_She pushes you hard against the wall and you bump your head __ in the ensuing chaos of lips and hands and heat__. That kind of pain has never felt so good before._

Yes, she's put this ridiculous grin on your face. Haven't been able to wipe it off for hours.

You want to reach out and run your fingers along the ink on his arm, trace his heart in the center of his chest. But you don't. You simply peer at him over the bundle of comforter and sheets and space between.

_There's a near- fatal accident on the stairs and not because of tripping. He stops a moment to admire the view when you're thisclose to letting go. Not okay._

_The first time is frantic and feverish and explosive. Just like you knew it could be with her. The second? You lack the necessary vocabulary to describe it.  
_

The absence of your body next to hers must be alarming. She can't possibly comprehend how much her presence in your bed means to you. You lift the covers and climb in, but remain on your side, watching her.

He smells like fire, apple cider, and tidings of comfort and joy. You wonder if he's hiding Santa somewhere, but that would be ridiculous. Right?

_You're lying across from him in bed, grinning as he catches his breath. He mentions something about your flexibility. You try to defy gravity. Victory.  
_

_If you could keep her in this bed, cocooned from the rest of the world forever, you'd do it in a heartbeat. You curse any fool who's ever hurt her, swearing that you'll never be among them._

The crooked grin that creeps across her face gives you pause. Eyebrows pinching, your questioning glance only makes her smile wider, eyes crinkling. You nearly reach out and grab her, but fear that you'll ruin the moment.

The curiosity on his face is evident. You simply cannot resist. Pushing up, you let the sheet fall off your torso and smirk at the way his eyes struggle to keep contact with yours.

_You both pass out from exhaustion around three. When you feel his fingers along your inner thigh an hour later, you wonder if you've died and gone to heaven._

_She whispers her fears into your neck, pulls back and looks into your eyes. You seal your promise with a kiss._

"Best Christmas Ever," she proclaims.

Always quick on the uptake, he responds immediately and finally lets his eyes drop lower to your chest.

"Couldn't agree more, darling. Breakfast?"

She laughs and pulls you up by your hand into a kneeling position opposite her. Clutching her hips, you kiss her softly as you exchange warmth, air, and soft caresses.

"Who needs breakfast when I have you?" she whispers.

"Smart girl."

_In the quiet before she wakes, you whisper three words that mean so much, yet not enough._

.::.

_Fin_

.::.

A/N: The original version had only the non-italicized portions. Then I realized I'd get mauled for not including the hookup part. That's why it's all double-timed and obviously not sticking with the whole _not touching _thing. Thank you all for commenting and enjoying. AND PINEAPPLE ~ i demand happytiems. DEMAND IT.


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